A Gem of A Deal
by spuffy luvr
Summary: A sequel to 'A Gem of a Soul', but this can be read as a standalone. Years after the previous story ended, Buffy and Spike are having problems, like any married couple. Will a favor owed to Halfrek make things better or worse?
1. Chapter 1

If you didn't read 'A Gem of a Soul', it's okay, you can pretty much follow along. Big things to know - Buffy and Spike have been 'married' since S6, Spike has the Gem of Amarra, and nobody died (Joyce, Anya, Tara). Because I'm a much softer person than Joss Whedon. To whom all these characters belong, etc. (I write for my amusement only). Also, Spike owed Halfrek the Vengeance Demon a favor in exchange for having healed Buffy from a physically incapacitating gun shot wound.

This has a different feel from 'A Gem of a Soul'. It's even more heavy and emotional and angsty, and, unlike the other, in no way follows future/comic canon. Honest to God I was going to write something humorous, but it just didn't come out that way. Sigh.

There will only be five chapters, so, short! For me.

* * *

Spike blamed it on Harris. He blamed a lot of things on Harris, but this one lay squarely at the feet of a one-eyed carpenter. Somebody had to take the blame after all, otherwise it was just a big, cosmic joke, courtesy of the Powers that Screw You over.

"Breathe, luv," he implored, trying to calm his hysterical wife. "Breathe, Buffy, please." He showed her how. In and out. In and out. Nice and slow and steady. She didn't stop hyperventilating, didn't stop her anguished cries. They broke his undead heart.

"I can't!" she sobbed. "Can't. Can't take it anymore. Not again, I… I can't!"

He held her tighter. Tried to breathe for her, tried to be strong, even though he wanted to break down and scream too, hurl curses and destroy the world around them. Maybe later he could let go, let out his own anguish. Later, after he'd washed away the blood that was staining her lap and his, spreading outwards in an inexorable flow, draining a tiny life from her body.

She cried herself out, her small, limp body cradled against his, snuffling brokenly. "This is the last time," she said in a cracking voice. "I can't do this again. I'm sorry."

His heart broke for a second time at that. They'd had such high hopes. A miracle in the waiting. An answer to their dreams. But he couldn't blame her, couldn't bear to see her go through this pain again either. "It's okay, my love, it's okay. We'll get by."

Buffy didn't reply. She lay motionless in his arms, as if she were the one that was dead and not he.

* * *

_"I want a squirmy, pink baby," Anya announced out of the blue. It was somewhat redundant to put the words 'Anya' and 'out of the blue' in the same sentence, but there you had it. It was apropos of nothing they'd been discussing, and, Buffy thought, possibly something to discuss first in private. _

_Also a concept foreign to the ex-demon._

_Xander visibly panicked. His wife wasn't exactly frail anymore, but it had only been a year since she had emerged from a months-long coma, and he was understandably worried about her health. And they were all still so young, the majority of the people in the room not yet having hit the midway mark between twenty-something and pushing thirty. Squirmy, pink babies weren't on anybody's mind. Except, obviously, Anya's._

_"Ahn," Xander began, placating her. "Maybe we should talk about this later."_

_She narrowed her eyes at the assembled group seated around the dinner table as she replied. "I don't understand what the big deal is. I've played 'Life' enough times to know how it works. We've amassed plenty of income, although we did have to start over thanks to Spike's destruction of our belongings and my source of income-"_

_"Wasn't my idea!" the vampire in question protested._

_"Understood, world save-age, blah blah blah. Moving on. We're married. We have a house of our own. The next step is the acquisition of children. We need to get moving on that if we're going to win."_

_Most everybody present could only stare. Even for Anya, this was a particularly strange statement._

_"Uh, you do understand that there's no winning involved in real life," Willow said as Spike thumped a choking Xander on the back. "It's not really a race."_

_Anya scoffed, "Sure, that's why it's not called the rat race." She turned to the youngest Summers. "Dawn, you explain it to them. You're the one who taught me how to play 'Life', after all."_

_Dawn cringed and said nothing, trying to sink lower in her chair and hide behind the half-carved Christmas turkey Buffy had cooked._

_The conversation moved on to other topics thankfully, such as whether their combined efforts were still required at the Cleveland Hellmouth, or if they could, en masse, settle elsewhere. Dawn voted for their return to California, seeing as she was stuck there until she graduated, and the majority agreed that it would be nice to return to a warmer clime. Giles advocated their coming to England, to take up with the Slayer school again. The discussion raged on, leaving the frightening topic of offspring behind._

_But thirteen months later, Anya proudly displayed her squirming, pink baby boy, announcing to all present that she and Xander were winning the race. Xander himself looked as though he agreed with the sentiment, and possibly even said as much, intimating that as the only male of the group with both a wife and the ability to produce viable swimmers, he was now the alpha male of the pack._

_Spike didn't take well to that statement, and Buffy even less so. _

_"We could adopt," the vampire blurted out as they left the hospital and the beaming couple. His remark was met with a startled glance. "If, you know, you wanted-"_

_"A squirmy pink thing of my own?"_

_"Yeah," he said, scuffing at the sidewalk and looking shy._

_Shrugging lightly, Buffy said, "I'm in no rush. We're young – in your case, eternally so – and I have to say I'm liking the world travel bit. Kinda living out my dreams, here. It would be a lot harder to do with a baby in tow. Never mind the world save-age gig that is our lives."_

_Spike cocked his head, and Buffy knew she hadn't been able to keep the wistful tone out of her voice when she'd uttered the word 'baby'. "Something to keep in mind," she assured him. "Later… Unless… you?"_

_"Later," he confirmed. "Not ready to share you yet."_

_Buffy couldn't agree more._

* * *

Spike noticed his wife didn't say anything to their friends when they gathered together later that month. There was nothing to say; she hadn't let them in in the first place. Not this time. She knew better after the pain and heartbreak of their first three attempts. She hadn't gone running to the others on the fourth, hadn't shared the miraculous news or reveled in the shared joy and congratulations, hadn't even let herself see them in case they guessed.

After the first pregnancy had abruptly ended at seven weeks, Buffy had been sad, devastated even, but she had gone on. These things happened. They would simply try again.

Of course, trying was a lot more complicated than it was for your average couple, even your average infertile couple. There wasn't just artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization in their case. There was also the small matter of bringing a dead man's sperm back to life. But Andrew, evil genius that he was, had found a way with Willow's help. The Pratts had rejoiced, thinking they could add their own offspring to the ever-growing pool of second generation Scoobies.

* * *

_"Congratulations!" Buffy said, happier for her friends than she could even begin to express. "This is…"_

_"A miracle?" Tara said shyly, gazing down at her new baby with adoration._

_"A definite miracle," Willow agreed, her arms wrapped around both Tara and their tiny daughter. "Besides, we had to catch up to Xander and his brood."_

_Spike's eyes were on Buffy rather than the miracle of science and magic that the witches held. His heart clenched as her face fell momentarily, then radiated happiness again. He'd brought up adoption a few more times in the intervening years, but Buffy hadn't seemed too keen, admitting when pressed that she wanted his child, rather than a child. Babysitting the Harris boys had led her to believe that she didn't particularly like children, and she was afraid she wouldn't bond with 'a stranger's'._

_That the pair of white-haired witches had managed to – carefully – manipulate the laws of nature to bear an actual child of their own made her even more adamant. If she couldn't have William Pratt's child, she wouldn't have any. Spike was beyond chuffed that she felt that way, but it still made him sad. For her – and for him. If the only way to have a tyke of their own was to adopt, or even go with a sperm donor, he was more than willing. _

_Funny thing about becoming parents, though. It was better when both were willing._

_As Buffy neared thirty and they were still childless, an offhand remark of Anya's sent her hurrying from the room, shoulders hunched with repressed tears. Only Willow noticed. "Spike," she said. "I need to get something out of the car, but baby girl here is going through this phase where I can't put her down. Would you help me?"_

_He knew the witch was intending to meddle, but he followed her out anyways. "Yeah," he spoke preemptively once they were outside. "She wants a baby, but she wants it to be mine, won't hear of any other way." He shrugged. "'Ve looked into a few things, but… best idea 've come up with is sending her into the past and having her get it on with my alter ego. All kinds of weird, that one," he admitted. _

_Not least the fact that he didn't think even a determined Buffy could have gotten that nancy boy to drop his britches._

_The 'later' Buffy had so casually referred to years ago was now, Spike was sure. The baby Slayers were all trained up, and except for consulting, she and Spike were mostly redundant these days. The Council had set aside a large pension for them, and the Pratts didn't have much to do. At least not in the apocalyptic, fate-of-the-world-on-their-shoulders way that they were used to._

_They ran a martial arts studio near their home in San Francisco, and between that and their nightly patrols, their lives were full but no longer completely satisfying. Buffy was a Slayer without a cause, and a woman with a ticking clock (as far as he understood it). Spike could sense his wife pulling away from him, longing for something else, but he didn't have a clue how to solve their issues. Even the massive demon hunt he'd asked Giles to let them lead last month had failed to perk her up._

_Which was why he was confiding in the white-haired witch. He was desperate for a solution._

_After digesting Spike's time-travelling scenario, Willow said, "I wonder if… well, if we could modify what we did to work for you guys…" She drifted off in thought. "Maybe Andrew…"_

_"No!" Spike said. After what had happened in Cairo… he wasn't talking to the boy. No way._

_Willow gave him an understanding smile. "He's – super sorry. As always. But I have to admit that he's majorly advanced on the whole cyborg front. And without him we wouldn't have our precious little bundle of joy." She made kissy faces at her daughter and Spike pretended to gag. "Just call him, okay?" _

_ He was all set to protest until she said the magic words. "For Buffy."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:**

I swore I wasn't going to write a babyfic sequel (it was part of my original end notes, damn it!), but since Spike wanting the chance to give Buffy kids was a big part of the epilogue, it set me to thinking about how I would never turn Spike human in this verse... and how else they might have kids... and then I was thinking about that favor Spike owes Hallie... and BAM! There it was. Convergence.

* * *

Eight months after the first miscarriage, Buffy had happily shared the news that she was thirteen weeks along. Smiles and congratulations had abounded. Those blissful, euphoric days didn't last. Within a week, a subdued Spike was sharing the less happy news as Buffy lay in the hospital, refusing to talk to anybody, even him.

* * *

_Buffy's fingers were squeezing his so tightly he was sure at least two of his digits were broken, but he didn't say a thing as they left the hospital and a weary but radiant Dawn. _

_"I want to try again," she said. "I'm ready."_

_"Sweetheart…"_

_"Look, I know you think I'm crazy, but… God, Spike, I want this. So badly. And – it's not just because of Dawnie and Rick's new baby. I've been thinking about it for a few months. A lot of women have miscarriages. With what I've put this body through, it's no surprise. I'll be so careful. Visit the doctor every week, eat the best foods. We can do this."_

* * *

She hadn't said anything the third time, although the others had guessed and fussed over her just the same. When she'd lost the baby at twelve weeks, something in her had snapped.

* * *

_Buffy was taking her inability to carry a child personally, as though she wasn't good enough to be a mother. But it had been close to a year now since the third miscarriage, and Spike missed his wife, missed the closeness that had ebbed away with each further loss. Playing the part of a patient and understanding husband wasn't bringing them back together, and he'd had enough. Frustrated with her withdrawal and her moping, he yelled at her to snap out of it. _

_"We can love a child that's not of my DNA," he said, anger making him harsh. "If you don't want to adopt, find yourself a sperm donor, see if that works out better."_

_She snapped out of it, all right._

_He was a bit ashamed to admit that his wife was thrashing him so thoroughly. With one final kick to his manhood, she stormed off from the cemetery they'd been patrolling, leaving him to limp home behind her. _

_Spike was even more reluctant to admit he might have deserved a thrashing, though the thought did nothing to diminish his anger._

_He didn't follow her home._

_"Spike – what happened?" Willow gasped when she opened the door._

_He tottered inside and collapsed on their couch with a groan, grateful to get off his feet._

_"Was there a demon?" Tara asked, and his answering laughter bordered on hysterical._

_"Just me," he sputtered out between high-pitched laughs. "That's me. Just a sodding demon."_

_Days later, he was still taking up residence in the witches' spare room, listening as Buffy sat in the living room below, sobbing on Tara's shoulder._

_"So… I thought… well, sperm donor – I've had enough with the icky, cold prodding and all that. Why not do it the fun way? The way Spike said it – like he didn't care if I was with… I was gonna do that. Find a cute guy, get knocked up, same difference. What does it matter how another guy inseminates me, right? Or, that's what I said." _

_He heard a tearful sigh, and had to strain to hear her next words. "There was no way… I couldn't bear to even look at somebody else. I could never… I love Spike so much, Tara, and I don't want some other guy's… stuff… in me."_

_"Well, I think I understand that feeling," Tara said, and Buffy gave a watery snicker._

_"Not just, you know, a penis… but not even… ew… sperm. I mean. Not Spike's, so, ew… And I can't believe I'm even having this conversation."_

_Neither could he. From the silence below, neither could Tara._

_Eventually the once-blonde witch said, "Spike mentioned… well, he seems to think that maybe the technique isn't working."_

_"What else could it be?" Buffy sniffled. "I mean, hello, dead demon seed? Probably making some kind of mutant baby that… yeah."_

_Spike knew that wasn't what she believed, not in her heart of hearts. She thought it was her. But she was too bloody proud to admit it._

_Fed up with the problems between them, the vampire stopped hiding in the spare room and walked downstairs, casual as you please. __She'd called him to make sure he was okay, but beyond that terse exchange, this was the longest they'd gone without talking in years. __"Hullo, pet," he said when she looked up, his smile tentative._

_Buffy's eyes fixed on his, and he could see the hurt and confusion bubbling below the surface of those tearful green eyes. _

_Tara must have slipped out because they were suddenly alone. Buffy looked away. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm really, really sorry." _

_He was by her side in a flash, tipping her chin up. "It's okay."_

_"Don't forgive me," she said tonelessly, still avoiding his eyes. "I don't deserve it."_

_He couldn't help but be gentle with her. "Maybe, maybe not. But that's not what matters. What matters is I love you, and you love me, and we're going to get through this."_

_And with that she collapsed against him, clutching at him with keening sobs, his own tears mingling with hers. _

_"I don't deserve to be a mother," she said when she'd regained a modicum of self-control, caressing his face and examining him for any lingering trace of bruising. "I don't even deserve to be a wife."_

_Spike shook his head firmly. "It was a bad day. One bad moment does not a bad wife make," he said. "We all make mistakes. I know you've forgiven me far worse."_

_"I don't think so," she protested._

_"I damn well know so."_

_Buffy wouldn't look at him again. Instead, she pulled the Gem of Amarra out of her pocket and handed it to him with a whispered, "Sorry." Taking the ring from her, he slipped it on then held her close, not saying a word. It was several minutes before she said, "It'll never happen again, I promise."_

_"I know." There was nothing else to say. _

_A few weeks later, the witches invited them over._

_"So… um… Willow and I have been talking," Tara said after the pleasantries were through. "We were thinking about having another baby and… well, we really wanted to tell you first… after all you've been through."_

_"It's great news!" Buffy said cheerfully enough, though Spike could detect the false note in her perky words._

_"The thing is…"_

_Tucking the hair that was still ethereally white behind her ears__, Willow took over the conversation as her partner trailed off. __"There's no easy way to do this, so I'm just gonna come right out and say it. We'd like to have a boy, but we know better than to mess around with nature that much. We couldn't conceive the same way as last time. 'Cause… no 'Y' chromosome between us. Which means we'd need…" she paused and exchanged glances with Tara. "And this may ick you out, considering what you told Tara, but we need a sperm donor." She said the next part all in one breath. "And we don't want to be insensitive to you, so if it's too much, tell us."_

_Buffy gaped like a fish. Spike squeezed her hand, offering up his silent support. "Please tell me you don't think I'm that bad of a friend," she finally said. "Yes, it would be hard… but… you can't put your life on hold just for me."_

_Both Tara and Willow seemed to slump in relief._

_"So, uh… are you going to go anonymous, or…?"_

_The witches glanced at each other once more. "Well, we'd rather know the genes we're getting, but… not a lot of choices. There's no way we'd ask Anya to share Xander, and… yeah," Willow replied._

* * *

Maybe the blame didn't lie with Harris. Maybe (_most likely_) it rested with Spike himself. If he hadn't agreed to Buffy's insistent request that he help the witches out, she never would have convinced herself to try to have his child one more time. But when Willow gave birth to a healthy son, a son with his genes, it was all she could think about.

* * *

_"Any decisions on whose genetic material you want to propagate?" Buffy asked with forced cheerfulness._

_"No," Willow answered glumly. "It's a big thing, you know. Choosing a stranger. Harder than asking somebody you're friends with, even."_

_Buffy took the opportunity to put forth her idea. "Have you given any thought to… Spike?"_

_Eyeing her warily, Willow replied, "Well, we did actually. In a 'what if' kinda way. But... I could never ask that of you."_

_"I… I would be okay with it. If, you know, you were willing to take the chance. Of a miscarriage. I mean, it hasn't worked out for me so far," she said, doing her best to keep her voice calm and collected. "And we don't know if it's me or… him."_

_After a long, tense silence, Tara said, "We thought we might be willing to take that risk. Andrew… he's made some advancements since your last time. And out of all the men we know…"_

_"We like Spike," Willow finished, uncharacteristically blunt. "He's handsome, and smart, and a pretty decent guy when he's not all with the 'rrr'. But we figured it would be too awkward. Whether it worked or not, it would be awkward, and I really don't want our friendship to become strained." _

_"I know," Buffy reassured them, not letting on how hard she had to work at being happy around them as it was. "I've thought about it quite a bit. This isn't a spur of the moment offer." _

_She hesitated, then admitted, "Well, it's not really an offer yet, because I have no idea what Spike would say…"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:**

I know I'm inviting strong reactions by taking the story in this direction. I just want to say, you're getting the story in bits and pieces, flashing back and forth through time. Whatever you think you know, it might be wrong...

Or it may be poor writing on my part. That's also a possibility.

If you're reading this without having read the previous story, one other important thing I didn't mention - Buffy ended up with enhanced Slayer powers. When she refers to her super-Slayer package, that's what she's talking about.

* * *

"Buffy…"

"Yeah?" she answered without looking at him.

Spike took the book out of her hands and squatted in front of her. Forced her to see him. "I love you. You know this." Huffing, she reached for her book, and he whipped it across the room in frustration. "Things aren't right, though! With us. And it's gone on for too sodding long."

Looking away, she said, "I know I've been all moody-Buffy, but come on, Spike. I think I've had good reason."

He moved so he was in her line of sight again. "Listen to me carefully, luv. You have had good reason. But we're dying here. As in you and me. Us. Dying. I'll never stop loving you, but for fuck's sakes it's been years now and I want my bloody wife back."

Her face began to contort in anger and he held his hand out to her. "You wanna just take the ring from me and beat me now, get it over with?"

Buffy recoiled. "Oh, God, Spike, no! How could you say that to me?"

He shrugged. "Because that's the exact look you gave me last time we were here." He was willing to provoke her anger, even to a beating if that's what it took. Anything to get her to confront their issues.

She clenched her fists in an obvious attempt to keep them under control, twin spots of color burning high on her cheeks. Spike didn't move away, didn't back down.

"Why do you always want to make me do the talky?"

"You used to talk to me, years ago. Tell me I was your strength. All you do now is push me away. You keep pushing, I just might believe you one of these days."

She only stared at him. Stared and stared, and he had no idea what she was thinking. How had it come to this? All the bleeding things they'd been through, and this was what was going to drive them apart. The fight went out of him and he stood, turning his face so she couldn't see his tears as he headed to the door.

"It's my fault," Buffy blurted out. Spike stopped in his tracks. His wife admitting culpability was rare enough, but what she said next shocked him even more. "That the babies keep dying. It's because I'm a Slayer."

He spun around, reaching for her hand. "Not so. Some of the others have popped out a sprog or two in the last few years."

Smiling bitterly, she said, "Yeah, but they don't have my super-Slayer package, along with my super-Slayer immune system. You know how I _never _get sick? Well, turns out pregnancy's a bit like an infection. My body rejects the babies. That's why things went okay with Willow. So… if you want kids, you'll be better off with somebody else anyhow."

"Christ, Buffy. I don't know if I've ever told you this, pet, but you're dumb as rocks. Think you've taken one too many blows to the head."

Her mouth worked in outrage, and then she said with icy calm, "This is not me being a martyr here. That last time, Andrew took blood almost every day, did all kinds of tests. He confirmed what I thought. I knew the pregnancy wasn't going to viable, but I still hoped… Didn't matter, though. I can't bear your children. It's me, I kill them. You're better off… elsewhere."

Spike's lips thinned in exasperation. "No, Buffy, you're daft if you think having my own kids matters that much to me. Matters more than _you_. Yeah, I wouldn't mind a couple of ankle-biters with my dashing good looks, but after nigh on a century and a half, it's a dream that doesn't need to be fulfilled, not if it loses me the one thing I need most. And what I need most is you, luv, in case you're too bloody dumb to figure it out."

She didn't have an answer to that, and he pulled her stiff form into his arms, holding her until she relaxed a fraction. "I get that this is destroying you. But let me be destroyed with you. And let me heal with you. And then let's figure out how we're going handle our future _together_."

A sob escaped her. "All I seem to do is cry these days," she said as yet another shirt fell victim to her tears. He didn't care though, would use up his whole bleeding wardrobe if only she moved past the tears and onto _more_. Buffy eventually took a deep breath and he held his, waiting to see if he would get his wish.

"Well of course you're going to be the mature one," she snuffled into his chest. "You're the one who's on the downward slide to two hundred. Give me a couple more centuries and I'll stun you with my wisdom and insight."

He closed his eyes in relief and smiled into her hair.

* * *

_They lay on their bellies, the hot sun shining down on their bare backs, the sound of the surf lulling them into a trance-like state._

_"Spike?" she said drowsily. "I think I might be ready."_

_"For what, luv?"_

_"To settle down a bit. Nothing, you know, suburban-y and soccer mom-ish. But maybe have a real home, start that business we've been talking about. Knock the hero gig from full-time down to nightly patrols and the occasional apocalypse."_

_His simple, "Yeah?" didn't give anything away, so she rolled to look at him. "When you're ready, of course. But – and I never thought I'd say this – I think I'm tired of seeing the world. And hey, Hawai'i here," she gestured vaguely around them. "We finally made it. Best to quit on a high note."_

_His brilliant smile told her all she needed to know. Tugging him until his body covered hers, pressing her down into the hot sand, she said, "You're still such a mystery to me sometimes."_

_"How's that?" With the sun behind him, Spike's rumpled hair shone like a halo, leaving his face in shadow, though his eyes sparkled brighter than the clear blue sky overhead. _

_Buffy smiled up at him. "William the Bloody wants to get domestic. It's kinda disturbing."_

_"Pffft," he scoffed. "Any bloke in his right mind would give up the high life if you were the prize."_

_"Sap," she said, nibbling on his ear until he hardened against her thigh, then shoving him off and pelting towards the ocean. "Can't catch me!" she squealed, shivering in delight when she heard his answering growl right behind her._

* * *

"Today's the day," Buffy announced, plunking down beside him on the couch.

He cocked an eyebrow. "For?"

"That talk about our future and how kids play into it. The one I've been avoiding."

He flicked the telly off, listening attentively.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Before we get into the rest of it… I want to have a memorial service. For our children."

Spike's initial reaction was surprise. To him, they'd been mere ideas of children, and it was the idea to mourn, not the child. But as he considered her request, he realized it made sense. Even with his enhanced senses, he hadn't been anywhere near as connected to their lost children as his wife had been. They'd been a part of her, living beings that had affected her - body, heart and soul.

So yeah, maybe a memorial service was a good idea. Would help her to move on. "Just you'n me, luv, or…?

"Just us. And maybe Mom."

"Of course, sweetheart. You tell me what you need and we'll do it."

Buffy nodded. "Thank you." She fiddled with a loose button on her shirt before continuing. "Okay, on a scale of 'I'd rather be forced to listen to N'Sync for the rest of my life' to 'only my wife hand-feeding me blooming onions while we shag 24/7 to the Ramones could possibly make me happier', where do you fit having kids?"

"I'd say right around whatever makes my wife happiest."

She rolled her eyes, though she smiled as she did so. "Good answer. But the wrong one. I'm asking, for you, is having children important? Do you even want to?"

Spike took some time to consider his answer. "I've always imagined you being a mother someday. Know you want that. And seeing you happy would make me happy. For me… my fondest wish, before I was turned, was to have a passel of children. 'Course, in those days fathers weren't much involved, but… yeah, I'd like to. Raise a couple hellions with my beautiful wife. Though if it doesn't happen, I'll still be perfectly happy. S'not even close to a deal breaker."

Shifting around until her back was to his chest and she was cradled between his legs, she said, "I can so totally imagine you as a father. And here's what scares me. I think the vampire will be a better parent than me."

"Nonsense," he protested into her hair, and she grew tense against him. "Let it out," he told her. "We talk. We share. No matter how bad. No more holding back, luv. Remember?"

Buffy's voice was low and raw when she spoke. "I'm a killer, Spike. That's what I'm made for, what this body is made for. What I'm good at. So much so that my body kills any babies I try to make." He held her tighter and waited for her to finish. "I deal in death, not life. Maybe all those miscarriages were a sign that I shouldn't have children."

"And yet you think the real killer will make a good father? Daft woman. It's not a sodding sign. It's just a downside to all those lovely perks you have. A big downside, no doubt, but… have to confess I like the slower aging process you've been graced with." Swallowing, he added, "It's nice to know you'll be around a good, long while."

"Nice to know I won't look like I married a younger man for a good, long while you mean. Someday everybody will think I'm the cradle-robber and not you."

He pinched her side. "No trying to get off-topic. And you? Do you still feel the same way about adopting that you did before?"

"You didn't even ask me if I wanted children at all."

"Fair enough. Do you?"

"Yes."

Spike snorted. "Bloody exercise in pointlessness, that. And knowing our only choice is adoption, are you open to it now?"

"There's surrogacy," Buffy said. "Willow and Tara have offered… More than once, actually."

* * *

_They were meeting while Buffy was out of town visiting Joyce, trying to sort their way out of the sticky situation they'd found themselves in._

_"Spike," Tara said, her long-lost stammer threatening to reappear. "I want to be clear; it's n-not that we don't want you as the f-father. Because out of anybody we know, you're our ideal choice. But… I don't know what this will do to Buffy. I d-don't understand why she's so determined for us to choose you. She's…"_

_'Lost her marbles' was the unspoken consensus. _

_ With a nod from Willow, Tara continued. "We have an alternate idea… What if we were surrogates for you guys instead?"_

_Spike cocked his head, considering. It wasn't a thought that had occurred to him. "Have you discussed it with her?"_

_"No," Willow answered. "She's been so… on edge. She's at a breaking point, and we don't know what to… We were hoping maybe you could bring it up."_

_"I don't know what to do either," Spike admitted. "This," he motioned to the witches and himself, "seems like a bad idea, no matter how my wife insists. Don't get me wrong, knowing you consider me prime breeding stock gets me ever so puffed up and manly feeling, ladies," he smirked half-heartedly, "but I don't see how it's going to work out for the lot of us."_

_He scrubbed the face he was sure looked as haggard as he felt. "I'll try to talk Buffy out of offering my stud services up again. And I think it best if you're the ones to share the surrogacy idea with her. Can't guarantee I'll have any better luck… she's not big on conversing right now. Not unless it's what she wants to say."_

_"I'm so sorry, Spike" Willow said. "When we decided to tell you guys we were planning on using a sperm donor, this isn't what we wanted. Now I wish we'd never even told Buffy what we were thinking about. Maybe then she wouldn't have gotten this idea in her head."_

_"What else could you have done?" Spike asked. "She had to find out sooner or later. Better from the get-go than waiting 'til you were too swollen to ignore the topic. Don't see what other choice there was. You moving far away and never letting on your family was growing?"_

_Tara said, "We didn't… we didn't have to have another baby. Or, it didn't have to be a boy."_

_Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that would've been grand. 'Specially 'bout the time you start resenting us for keeping you from your own life. I realize my wife seems to have gone sack of hammers, and can't say as I blame her, but I know Buffy. She would hate herself even more if she ever found out our troubles had kept you from fulfilling your dreams. She already worries the Niblet isn't having more kids because we can't."_

_"At the very least, I never should have admitted we'd thought about you when she asked," Willow insisted. "I should have lied and said the idea disgusted me."_

_Tara frowned. "And then we would have had an angry Buffy demanding to know why Spike wasn't good enough for us. I don't think there was a right way to do this, sweetie. Not without somebody getting hurt."_

_Standing to leave, Spike exhaled slowly. "Think you're spot on, Glinda. There's no good way out of this. And s'not anybody's fault, just sodding crap circumstances. We'll all have to muddle through as best we can."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:**

As always, the comments and reviews really help me to hone the story. One last chapter after this. I was struggling with the final few paragraphs of the story, and I think (hope) they're good now!

* * *

"What do you think about surrogacy?" Buffy prodded when he remained lost in thought.

Spike wished he'd been firmer with his wife, wished he'd refused to give in to Buffy's daft idea that he father Willow's child, but she'd been so fragile. He'd finally consented, hoping it would ease her pain somehow. Stupidest bloody idea he'd ever had, and that was saying something.

No wonder Buffy had stopped telling him he was her strength and instead pushed him away. He'd used to take pride in knowing her better than he knew himself, in giving her what she needed before she even knew she needed it, but it no longer was true.

He'd failed her.

Maybe it was because he was still too much a demon to understand what she'd been going through, or maybe it was just because he was a man. Either way, her grief had been a road he hadn't known how to follow her down, and he'd almost lost her because of his inadequacy.

Nothing he could do about it now, other than work harder at being the man she needed him to be. In spite of his failures, his wife was finally here with him, trying to make things right. He'd best get on with answering her.

"I've told you before luv, I don't much care whether I pass on my dead genes or not. If another woman is birthing our baby, does it matter to you if that baby has our genes?"

"Yes. No? I don't know. Maybe?"

Pressing a kiss onto the top of her head, he said, "Well, that's more progress than we've made in the last five years. We can think on surrogacy if you want. No need to figure it all out tonight." When Buffy squeezed his hand in reply, he whispered into her hair, "Thank you."

She twisted to look up at his face. "For?"

"For coming back to me."

With a grimace she said, "Don't be too proud of me. It was purely selfish. I was getting lonely out there in Stupidsville, population: me."

"Never been there myself," Spike said, "though I have been known to hang out in Giant Wankerville."

Buffy laughed, and it was the sweetest sound he'd heard in a long time.

* * *

_Despite her assurances to the contrary, it was very awkward around Willow and Tara these days, though she did her best to hide it. It had been her idea after all, an idea she had single-mindedly pushed the witches and her husband to accept, despite their repeated refusals. _

_But she'd had to know, hadn't she? Whether the miscarriages were his fault or hers? And now she had her answer. _

_Buffy sucked up the pain as best she could. _

_It wasn't only Willow and Tara's family that was painful. Being around any of her friends, even her sister, was becoming more difficult as their children grew and thrived while she had none. _

_But being around the witches' family was especially hard, no matter that she was the one to blame for how difficult it was. Every time she looked at their infant son Buffy thought, "He should be mine." _

_He wasn't. The little boy that would grow up to have sharp cheekbones and curly hair wasn't hers, would never be hers, and it broke her heart._

_Tara and Willow offered to be surrogates, but Buffy didn't want that. She wanted to bear a child of her own. _

_She wanted to not fail as a woman and a mother._

_It was the reason why she went to Andrew, asking him to try again. Buffy already knew it was likely pointless, but she couldn't help herself. Andrew, seeing her desperation, or possibly her cocked fists, caved. With an aching need to bear her own child of William's, she took the immunosuppressants Andrew recommended, praying that it would keep her body from rejecting the new life they had created. Only she and the man that had once been a prisoner in her house knew how high the risks were; she didn't share them with anybody else, least of all her husband._

_This pregnancy lasted longer than the others, going well into the second trimester and continuing on to the point where she began to have hope. Buffy had actually been picking up the phone to call her mother and share the secret, thinking that it would take Joyce's mind off the cancer that had returned, when the cramping began._

_At eighteen weeks, Buffy knew there was little hope of saving their baby. She'd been counting down the days until there was a chance, but she hadn't reached that point yet. Even had she reached the cutoff, her traitorous body was already undergoing what it considered a 'healing' process at an accelerated rate. _

_She hurled the phone against the wall where it shattered, sobbing out her sorrow and despair. Buffy couldn't stop howling, not even when her husband rushed to her side, pulling her into his embrace and holding her close as he tried desperately to comfort her._

_"Breathe, luv," he implored, but she couldn't. All she could do was think about how she'd killed his baby, how the only thing she excelled at was killing._

* * *

Spike answered the door, his stomach plummeting as he saw the dark-haired woman standing there. "Cecily?" he said, his grip on the doorknob reducing it to a misshapen lump of metal.

"Halfrek," she reminded him with an airy laugh. "Hello William, long time no see."

Not since Xander and Anya's wedding, in fact. Twelve… thirteen years? More? It was hard to keep track when you'd lived so long.

"Come to collect that favor, then?" Spike asked. A note of worry crept into his voice. "Does it have to be now? Buffy and I-"

She cut him off. "A debt owed is a debt owed, William, no matter your personal life. Surely you're still demon enough to know this. Or if you'd prefer, I could undo your wish…?"

_Bitch_.

"No, no."

He couldn't help but growl in frustration. Buffy had scheduled tonight to talk with him, to work through how she felt about the idea of some other woman bearing the child she couldn't. How could Spike ask her to put that off?

Didn't matter. Their problems meant nothing to the demon, and refusing her would only make matters worse. He gritted his teeth. "Please, come in."

She smiled demurely, and for a moment Spike flashed back to his human life. The one where he'd worshipped this woman. Without even realizing it, his accent became more genteel, his manners more Victorian. "May I offer you some refreshments?"

"Tea would be lovely."

Spike busied himself in the kitchen, glad that Buffy was at the studio this evening. He was terrified to find out just what Halfrek would want from him, terrified that it would destroy the fragile relationship he and his wife were in the process of rebuilding. While their deal had stipulated that the vengeance demon wouldn't force him into anything that he found morally objectionable, it didn't mean there wouldn't be other negative consequences.

_Magic always has consequences. _

_Always._

When the tea had been served, Halfrek unearthed a folder from her bag and set it on the coffee table. Spike eyed the folder but didn't reach for it, waiting to see what she would say.

"I have a pair of twins that you are going to raise," she informed him without preamble.

"Hold on – huh?" he sputtered. "Twins? Human or…? And why?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "I'm actually doing you and Buffy another favor, if what Anyanka tells me is true. But take these children and we'll call it even." Spike opened his mouth to demand answers and she waved him off. "Patience, William! It is a trait you simply must develop as a father."

With a glare he shut his mouth and waited, drumming his fingers against his thigh instead.

"I had a gig last week," she said. "Quite a delicious one, I must say. The young man was terribly inventive. Very hurt, he'd been." She examined her nails as she continued talking. "At the end of it all, the boy's newborn half-brother and half-sister were left with no family to care for them. Rather tragic, really. However, I have a heart. I wouldn't simply leave a pair of infants to die in a ruined town. Goes against my thing for helping children, you understand."

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "How very noble of you."

"Isn't it?" She lowered her voice, as if imparting a dirty secret. "So I began to look into the babies' background, to try to find some distant family to bring them to. Not my normal way of doing things, but…"

"Feeling guilty, were you?"

Her tinkling laugh rang out. "Guilty? My, what a sense of humor you have. No, no, I simply didn't wish to leave them to an orphanage." She shuddered at the thought. "At any rate, my search led me to… you."

* * *

_"WHY is this so important to you, Buffy?" Willow was crying openly now. "How can this possibly make anything better?"_

_How indeed? Buffy wasn't sure, but she was still convinced it was the right thing to do. She'd thought it through, had her arguments all laid out and ready to use._

_"If Spike and I already had kids, you would have asked us – Spike – to be the donor, right?" Willow hesitated, then nodded. "It's no different, not really. The only reason anybody is saying no is because you're all afraid it'll be too much for me to handle. I really wish everybody would stop treating me like I'm so damn fragile."_

_She turned to Spike, trying not to notice the others' winces, winces which only proved her accusation. "Honey. Does the idea of Willow and Tara raising your son bother you?" She held up a hand to stop his automatic response. "Take me out of it," she insisted. "Forget about our problems. Would you do this for them?"_

_He searched her eyes before he spoke. "Gladly," he answered gravely. "They make wonderful mums. A child couldn't be in a better family. And I've told you before, pet, the DNA doesn't matter to me. He'd be a nephew in my eyes, not a son."_

_Buffy held her hands out to her friends, imploring them to see her reasoning. "If you don't do this, you're just going to make me feel worse. You're making me feel all selfish, like I'm stopping you from having the family you want. What do you think it does to me, knowing that I'm the reason you don't have a son?"_

_"But there are other…" Tara began, and Buffy cut her off._

_"What are the 'other' options? Any which way you look at it, whatever you choose is going to remind me of what I've lost. If you don't have a kid, I'll know it's because I haven't been able to. If you don't have a boy, I'll know it's because of me. If you choose a stranger as a donor, I'll know you're settling for something you'd rather not – again because of me. Don't… don't do that to me, Tara. Willow. _

_"Spike's right, you deserve this baby. And I want this. It would make me happy to see you guys happy, and it's going to kill me if you keep saying no. I'm not saying it will be easy for me… But just because I can't…" She swallowed and steeled herself to remain calm. "Just because I can't doesn't mean you shouldn't. It's something you want that I can help you with, just like you'd help me out."_

_She mostly believed it, too. Buffy really did want to do this for her friends, despite the less altruistic motives she wasn't sharing with the others._

_"And then… and then after you've had your baby, we can talk about surrogacy, okay? I mean, you're taking the risk, so you should get the first payoff." That sounded reasonable, right?_

_It must have, because by the end of the night, she'd finally convinced them._


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:**

I ended up rearranging just a touch to make the story flow better, switching part of the last chapter with this one. Which means if you're reading this story as I post it, you might want to go back and re-read the end of chapter four - it's new and different (and not to be missed!), while the end of this chapter will be familiar. I also decided to split this last chapter into two, so now there's a forthcoming epilogue as well.

I get that our heroes seem to have suffered from monumental lapses in judgement in this story, which is upsetting, but in their defense... Most everybody I know (me included) has suffered from insanity and irrationality at some point or other in their life. There's a reason for the expression 'It's so crazy it has to be true' (aka you can't make this shit up - although maybe vampires and vengeance demons suggest otherwise). I'm just hoping I'm able to make all the craziness come together in a way that feels real...

Reviews are awesome and help me figure out if I'm doing things right or not, especially on something as difficult as this!

* * *

Spike was cradling a swaddled infant in each arm when Buffy walked in, and if the situation hadn't been so serious he would have burst into laughter at the expression on her face.

"Hi honey, you're home," he said when she'd stood there for several long, flabbergasted minutes, staring.

Dragging her eyes up to his face, she tried to joke. "Did you run to the store and pick up a few odds and ends while I was out?"

"You might want to sit."

"No, I think not."

"Right." He sat himself. Spike longed to run his hand over his face, or better yet through his hair, but both hands were rather occupied at the moment. He'd had over an hour to prepare an explanation, and still the words remained stuck.

Eventually Buffy broke the silence. "Did a door-to-door baby salesperson drop by with an offer we just couldn't refuse? The buy one get one free promotion that's so hard to resist?"

"Funnily enough, something like that. They're from Halfrek." Her brow furrowed. "Anya's vengeance demon friend – the one I made a deal with," he reminded her.

"Yeah, got that. And the sixty-four thousand dollar question is – did she need you to babysit for the night?"

He gave her a furtive smile. "Uh, not as such. These are… meet our children."

Buffy sat heavily. "Ours?" she blurted. "I don't think so. I think I would have remembered any children that might be ours."

"No, no. We're meant to raise them. As ours."

"Give them back!" she panicked. "A favor is – you beating up some bad parents. Or killing a pesky demon. Or helping her move. This is not a favor. This is a bad idea!"

"We did want children…" Spike tried to soothe her.

Buffy jumped up again and paced. "Okay, yes, but... This is… This is not part of the plan! And not our choice! Don't you think we should be the ones to choose when and where and how? This – this is too much. Give them back!"

"I _can't_, sweetheart. Not without-"

Not without turning his wife back into an invalid. He _wouldn't_ make that choice, not even if Buffy left him for it.

"_I don't care!_ _Halfrek! I summon thee!_" she screamed at the top of her lungs, then again when nothing happened.

The noise and commotion set one of the babies to crying, and the other one joined in. Spike rocked and shushed them, but they didn't stop.

"See, bad idea!" Buffy yelled over the squawking children, staying on the far side of the room. "We don't know what to do with babies."

Spike did his best to remain calm, despite his certainty that his eardrums were about to burst. "Luv. Please. Go to the kitchen and fetch their bottles. We do too know what to do; we've babysat infants plenty of times."

Buffy stonewalled until he repeated, "Please." She gave in, grumbling the whole while, then stalked over to the couch and thrust the bottles in his face.

He shrugged, a baby in each arm. "Little help?" When she only glared at him, he asked, "Want the boy or the girl?"

Curious, she eyeballed the squalling infants, though her posture remained belligerent. "Which is which?" Spike didn't actually know, seeing as they didn't appear to be color coded.

"Uh… less'n you want to unwrap the little buggers and find out, take your pick."

She hesitantly traded him a bottle for a baby, settling down next to him. As she tucked the remaining bottle into the mouth of the infant she'd chosen, the little one gave a satisfied mewl, suckling hungrily. From his spot next to her on the sofa, Spike watched her face soften.

As the babies calmed, so did Buffy. "All right. Explain this to me… We have to raise them? And – why?"

With her simple acceptance, the tension drained out of the room, and Spike shook his head in amazement. If there was one thing you could say about his wife, she knew how to adapt to a crisis.

"We're to raise them, be good parents. A wish she granted left the little tykes without family, so she brought them to us, said they were our responsibility now."

"O-kay…" She reflected on that for a moment. "But, I guess I still don't understand why. Why did she think of us?"

"Well, here's the thing. When she looked into their more distant relations, apparently it led her to… us."

She jerked, startling the infant in her arms, and she jiggled soothingly until all was quiet once more. "Come again?"

"Ready for some more big surprises?"

"Pretty sure nothing can top this."

With a wry twist of his lips, he said, "I'll take that bet. You have – had – an older sister. Half-sister. She's the babies' mum."

Buffy gaped at him, the color draining from her face. "I take it back." She swallowed. "Splainy?"

"Your dad. Knocked some bird up when they were both teens. The mother gave her up for adoption. So – Emily was her name – was your sister, and these children are your niece and nephew."

"Oh." She stared at the babe in her arms with a newfound curiosity.

Spike waited until she looked up at him, then told her, "There's more."

"Seriously?"

"This is the even stranger part. Apparently my mum had a brother I knew nothing about. Black sheep of the family, ran away to California during the gold rush. Never heard from the tosser again. His great-great-something is the da. And, uh, if you look at the photo in the folder there," he gestured to the folder on the table, "well, yeah. Pretty sure we're related, me and Thomas."

Buffy picked up the folder and flipped it open. "Thomas is – was – the father."

"Yeah." Spike knew she'd reached the right page when she dropped it with a gasp. "Bloody disquieting, isn't it?" he said. He didn't need to look; the face was clearly etched in his mind. It had been like looking at a distorted reflection of himself.

Buffy stared and stared. "So they really are like… ours… Does this seem too perfect?" she asked when it had sunk in.

"Little bit," he conceded. "They'll probably grow up to be hellions, break our hearts, if it makes you feel any better."

With narrowed eyes, she said, "I can't help but feel like the PTB are involved somehow. And if they are… well, it doesn't bode well. I say we call Giles up, make with the research."

"You really wanna go looking a gift horse in the mouth, pet? Will it matter? They're ours now, no matter how they got here." _Like Dawn,_ he thought, and one look at her face told him she was making the same connection.

Buffy relaxed into him, tiny, innocent children sleeping trustingly in their arms. "I – I guess. Still processing here, you know. This is not something to just spring on a girl after a long day." Spike nuzzled her hair, hearing the muted shock in her voice. He didn't exactly blame her. He was still processing too.

"They have names?" she asked suddenly.

"Not anything we're going to use. Bloody ridiculous names."

"Which are?"

"Randy and Joan."

Buffy burst out laughing. "Oh, you're right. So not keeping those!" With a crooked grin she added, "Sayeth the parents named 'Buffy' and 'Spike'."

He grinned back. "How you holding up?"

"Instant family. Just add water. Kinda crazy." Buffy fell silent again, thinking. "I guess this means we don't need to have that other talk tonight. Which is too bad, because I had my brain all sorted out for once."

"Could still…" Spike offered.

She nodded. "Sure, I'll give you the Cliff Notes version. It would be a shame to waste my one moment of self-awareness ever," she said dryly. "I was going to choose adoption. The first reason was the sane one – because you're right, the whole DNA thing doesn't really matter when you get right down to it. If you don't care, why should I? Although the whole internal debate I had with myself to get to that point seems kinda ironic now, considering," she said, nodding at the babies, and he chuckled sympathetically.

Buffy paused for a moment before continuing, embarrassed, "The second, less healthy reason was an overwhelming fear that it wouldn't just be my body, but _me_. That our baby would still die, even in somebody else's body. Because of – oh, I don't know. Maybe the resurrection messed up my eggs, or something. I know it's cowardly and irrational, but I don't think I would've ever recovered if that had happened."

"I'm sorry, luv. You don't know how much I wish..."

Buffy snuggled deeper into him. "I do though. And you're… I can't tell you what your support has meant to me, Spike. I don't even have the words to tell you how much I appreciate you sticking by me, despite all the crazy-Buffy-who-makes-Dru-look-sane shit I put you through."

Grimacing, Spike said, "T'was me who failed _you_, luv. I didn't give you what you needed. Didn't earn my title of husband."

"Spike. Listen to me. For as awful as things got between us, it was never your fault. I don't know how you could have given me more. Life is majorly unfair sometimes, and I couldn't accept it. I went off the deep end for awhile there, and tried to take you with me… You're a good man, husband. My hero. My champion."

Spike closed his eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude. It had been years since she'd called him by any of those designations. His wife was back, and it sounded like she was here to stay.

"Love you too, wife. More'n anything. We're gonna be okay, yeah?"

"Yup, I think so. Insta-family here is going to take some serious adjusting to, but I have the feeling we're going to be okay." They basked in silence, until Buffy sniffed the air. "Did Hallie bring diapers too or do we have to go shopping tonight?"

"Should be enough nappies and such up in the nursery to last the night."

She twisted to face him, eyes widening, then dropped her gaze to the bundle in her arms once more. "The nursery," she repeated, her lips curving into a dreamy smile.

"Our nursery," he echoed, his expression matching hers.

* * *

_"A house of our own," Spike beamed, carrying her across the threshold._

_"It's not the first house we've owned," Buffy reminded him._

_Spike didn't put her down, instead continuing up the stairs, two at a time. "Yeah, but that one's at the bottom of a giant crater. 'Sides, it's the first house we've had to ourselves. Just me and my beautiful bride." He set her down at the top of the stairs as she wriggled out of his grasp._

_Poking her head into one of the smaller bedrooms, Buffy sighed wistfully at the large mural painted on the wall. "I would have loved this room when I was a kid."_

_"And someday our children will love it," he replied automatically, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. Buffy stiffened and he tried to backtrack. The topic of children had become touchy of late. "We could always paint over it if you prefer."_

_With a final glance at the cavorting animals, she said, "No, I like it just the way it is. But right now I'm more interested in our room." _

_ She attempted to leer at him and he laughed, chasing her down the hall, leaving thoughts of nurseries and children for another day._


	6. Epilogue

**Author's Notes:**

The twins' heritage is a little OTT, I know. Probably because the idea started out as silly and somehow mutated into this whole angsty backstory. I had to cut out a huge section of the epilogue because... well... not a comedy. But that idea shall go into the new short story that IS silly and fluffy (hopefully I can make it stay that way).

In my mind the PTB were involved, even though our heroes never find out for sure.

PLEASE let me know if I managed to make this work. I'll see you soon with something new (damn plot bunnies multiply like... rabbits).

Also, I've changed the epilogue to A Gem of a Soul a little bit, because enough people pointed out to me that it was too light in tone compared to the rest of the story, and it probably was, so if you want to see the changes I'll be posting it soon. Thanks!

* * *

_"Hey guys!" Buffy called out across the twilit park, jogging to catch up to Tara and Willow and their children. Their toddler was snuffling softly in his sleep, safe in the sling Willow sported, while Tara pushed their daughter in a stroller._

_"Buffy!" Willow said cautiously, returning her friend's hug. "Long time no see."_

_Buffy cringed. "Yeah, sorry."_

_"No, no," the witches rushed to apologize, "there's-"_

_"Look, I know things have gone to hell between us, and, well, it was my fault, okay?" Willow's protest died on her lips as Buffy reached out and stroked the little boy's soft, curly red hair, smiling at him – and meaning with all her heart this time. Maybe he wasn't her son, and it still hurt, but… what had Spike said? He was a nephew. An important part of her life. And she'd had a hand in making that happen._

_Like Dawn. Dawn was part of her DNA, connected to her, made from her… but not hers. If her sister hadn't shared Buffy's genetic material, wouldn't Buffy have loved her just as much?_

_She hoped so._

_Looking into her friend's hopeful face, Buffy said, "I'm not crazy-Buffy anymore. I mean, I still have some issues to work through, and Spike and I are logging major discussion hours to the point where I think I'll never want to talk again, but…"_

_Willow smiled, a genuine grin that fairly brightened the darkening sky. "Oh, Buffy, that's…" She leapt forward, turning sideways to avoid crushing her son and squeezing Buffy tightly. It felt good. Buffy didn't realize how much she'd missed her friend until that moment. Tara joined in the hug too, and – once again – the tears were coursing down Buffy's face, but this time they were tears of happiness._

_"So, uh… I think we should have a party next week," Buffy said, the unbidden words tumbling out before she could stop herself. "I haven't had a birthday party in years, what do you think?"_

_"Will there be cake?" Willow smiled._

_"Definitely cake. Chocolate-y cake-y goodness. With ice cream. And friends and family."_

_"I like this plan," Tara said. _

_"It's a plan I can get behind," Willow agreed._

_Buffy fidgeted with her wedding ring. "Good. Because, well, I'm tired of missing out on things. I've been so… wrapped up in what I couldn't have, that I've been ignoring all the good things I do have. Like… you guys," she said shyly. "And Xander and Dawn and all the kiddies…"_

_Willow and Tara each took one of her hands and Buffy used the gesture to tug her friends closer. "While I'm in sharing mode… well, we haven't made any decisions yet, but… Spike and I have been discussing what we're going to do about having kids…" She trailed off and they squeezed her hands encouragingly. _

_Buffy thought about her husband waiting at home for her, waiting to discuss the option of surrogacy. Gazing at the witches' little boy once more, her decision was suddenly clear. "It's time to face the facts. Having a family is… so much more than just propagating genes. It would have been nice if that would have worked out for me and Spike, but… it wasn't in the cards. And funnily enough, not because my husband's a freaking undead creature of the night," she laughed. "So. We're going to adopt."_

_There. She'd said it._

_Adoption had been the original idea, after all, back before they'd started trying to cheat nature. She grinned at her friends, the ones who had been by her side for almost twenty years now, truly happy for the first time in a long time._

_Buffy said it again amidst their congratulations. "We're going to adopt." She had made her choice and it felt right. _

_Life was good._

* * *

"'Gain, Da-da!" Tommy squealed, his childish laughter ringing out across the park. With a grunt, Spike grabbed the baby swing in both hands and ran forward, passing under and then letting it go to swing backwards in a large arc.

Emily was not to be left out. "Me too! Me too!"

"If I'd known you lot were going to be such little dictators I would have sent you back with the stork," he growled.

"Thilly Daddy!" Emily hooted.

When they'd had their fill of the swings, the two wispy-haired blondes toddled off to a corner of the sandbox, digging happily. Spike plopped down on the nearby bench with a sigh of relief, offering the grandmotherly type on the other end a friendly smile.

"I bet those two wear you out," she smiled back.

"You don't know the half of it," he agreed. "First time their mum has left me alone with them for more'n a day or two." His phone beeped, alerting him to a new text message. "Excuse me," he said, and she nodded her understanding.

_Miss U hubby. U R my strength. Never doubt it. Pick me up from airport wearing nothing but duster?_

Spike smiled, tracing the words with the pad of his thumb and wishing they were Buffy's soft lips instead. He stayed lost in thought for a long while, not even noticing when the older woman left.

Coming back to himself, he crossed to his children and scooped them up. "Come on then, little nippers. Let's get you home and in the bath. We don't want to miss bedtime or Mum will have our heads."

Striding down the street with a giggling child tucked in each arm, Spike remained introspective.

His wife was an amazing woman, a hero, who had been through a hell of a lot in her short life. The last few years had been an especial kind of hell, but they'd pulled through in the end, together, and were stronger than ever. With Buffy by his side, he knew they could face whatever the universe threw at them – though Spike wasn't naïve enough to harbor any illusions that life was going to be sunshine and daisies from here on out. He and Buffy, they'd had their good days and they'd had their bad, and they would be balancing the two for the rest of their years together.

But no matter how dire things got, Spike was certain he would never stop fighting for the good ones with all he was worth.

As first one, then the other cheek was graced with a slobbery kiss, Spike squeezed his children closer and knew the fight was more than worth it. Because life?

_Life was good._

Even when it wasn't.


End file.
